


One Touch Is Never Enough

by kingsofeverything (FullOnLarrie)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Camping, Crack, Fluff and Crack, Humor, Knotting, M/M, Massage, Smut, Werewolf Louis, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 00:25:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17477810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FullOnLarrie/pseuds/kingsofeverything
Summary: It’s been a rough year for Louis. First, he was turned into a werewolf, which hasn't been so bad, except that he didn't anticipate how it would affect his love life. Maybe it’d be easier to ignore if he wasn’t constantly bombarded by the sound of his two werewolf best friends getting it on in the next room.At least they were nice enough to give him a gift certificate for a massage.





	One Touch Is Never Enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YesIsAWorld](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YesIsAWorld/gifts).



> As always, thanks to [Nic](http://louandhazaf.tumblr.com) for being the best friend and beta in the universe ❤ 
> 
> I was driving home the other day and saw a billboard for a massage therapist with a werewolf on a massage table. Immediately, I thought of this idea. The challenge was to keep it under 5K, which I did! Yay! 
> 
> Please do not expect any researched werewolf mythology in this fic. I made everything up. Suspension of disbelief, etc.
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr post to share, if you'd like.](http://kingsofeverything.tumblr.com/post/182167281925/one-touch-is-never-enough-by-fullonlarrie-its)
> 
>  
> 
> Title is from 'One Touch' by LCD Soundsystem.

Louis looks around at the pale blue walls of the nicest waiting room he’s ever waited in and considers leaving for the tenth time in the last ten minutes, but that would require him to ask the ridiculously gorgeous godlike human being at the reception desk to show him the way out. 

That is, if he could find his own way back to the changing room where his clothes are stuffed into a locker that’s made of teak or some other ridiculously expensive wood. He spins the locker key ring on his finger, then tucks it into the pocket of the fluffy white robe the godlike human gave him and leans back in the chaise lounge, careful to keep the robe closed. 

He’s never had a professional massage before, and probably wouldn’t be waiting for his first if the last year of his life didn’t take what can only be described as a mythological turn. And, he wouldn’t be here at all if his so-called friends could keep their stupidly long snouts out of his business. Rolling his shoulders back, Louis has a harder time convincing himself that he’s not stressed. Of course he’s stressed. Anyone is his situation would be. 

Precisely one year prior, Louis tricked his two best friends into confessing their feelings for each other by convincing them that he was sad and lonely and just wanted to spend the weekend camping in the woods with them. A back-to-nature sort of trip, which meant that they hiked into the woods for almost two hours, set up the campsite, started a fire, and Louis waited until the full moon was out to break the news that he didn’t bring a tent or a sleeping bag and due to the terrible gas he was experiencing, he’d take one of their tents and let them share the other. 

By the time they woke up the next morning, Liam and Niall were officially an item, and all three of them were officially werewolves. At some point during their hike, they’d crossed into one of the local witches’ territory, and since they broke some of the branches of her Alder tree on their way, she cursed them. He’d spent the rest of the weekend curled up in a furry, grumpy ball, trying not to listen to his friends fucking ten feet away in the next tent. Unfortunately, his werewolf ears picked up every sound. 

Since then, he’s grown less afraid of running around in the woods while in werewolf form. But for those few days, all he’d been able to do was whine and whimper and wish that he’d just gotten Liam and Niall drunk and locked them in room together. 

It’s a year later and his friends won’t leave him alone. They want to find him his soulmate as some sort of thank you for forcing them to get their shit together. As if they’re going to be able to find another gay werewolf his age. As if such a person exists. As if he even wants a werewolf, or a soulmate, anyway. 

They even tried to get him to come along on their anniversary trip this weekend, but he refused, so they’d given him a gift certificate for a massage instead. They said they knew the perfect masseuse to release all of the knotted up tension in his muscles. He rolled his eyes so hard at the pun that it hurt. 

When he made the appointment, he specially requested the latest one in the day, thinking that he’d have the massage, go home and get high, then spend the rest of the weekend playing PS4 and jacking off. Not simultaneously. 

“Louis?” The man’s voice is both soft and deep and Louis wants to cry. He’s gorgeous. A different kind of gorgeous than the receptionist, but still. Beautiful. Dark curls that almost dust his shoulders are held back from his face by a blue bandanna, and his green eyes seem to glow in the candlelight of the waiting room. He smiles and dimples appear in his cheeks and Louis wishes that he could telepathically tell Liam and Niall how much he hates them for sending him here. 

Louis nods.

“I’m Harry. Can I get you anything before we get started?”

Louis shakes his head.

“Right this way then.” Harry steps backwards out of the doorway and waits while Louis climbs off of the chaise lounge, holding tightly to his robe so as not to flash Harry, and follows him out of the waiting room. “You circled the entire body on the form at reception. Does this mean that you don’t have any problem areas?”

“Oh, um… I…” It wasn’t as if he was able to fill out the form with his _actual_ problem areas. There wasn’t a space for ‘werewolf muscles’ or whatever the proper term is for the cramps and soreness he experiences every time his body changes back to human form. “I’ve never had a massage before, so I wasn’t sure.” 

“Well, if you think of anything while I’m working on you, please tell me.” Harry shows him to the massage room and lets Louis walk inside first. “Disrobe and lie face down on the table under the sheet. I’ll knock and wait for your response before I open the door.”

The door clicks closed and Louis is alone in the small, dimly lit room. He quickly takes off the robe and hangs it on the provided hook, slips off the complimentary slippers, and climbs onto the table. 

In the year since the witch’s curse, Louis has had sex exactly zero times. The first time he masturbated after that camping weekend, he almost passed out when he felt the the base of his dick began to swell at the approach of his orgasm. He probably only remained conscious because he was already lying down. That, and when he squeezed—what he knows now is called his knot—he’d been filled with such an immense pleasure that he needed to stay awake to experience it. 

So being a werewolf severely limits the dating pool. No human is going to let him fuck them with a werewolf cock. Even bottoming is out of the question because even without a hand on his dick, the knot still swells, and the one time he fucked himself with his dildo, he sprouted fur all over the second he touched his prostate. But all of that is nothing compared to the copious amount of slippery substance his own asshole produces when he’s horny.

He figures he’ll give himself another year before he starts trying to talk Liam and Niall into a pity fuck. And another year after that before he convinces them. 

A knock sounds at the door and, face down in the hole in the table, Louis says, “I’m good.”

“Ready, Louis?” Harry asks quietly, and Louis has never actually _felt_ someone say his name before. He nods as well as he can from his position. “Alright. Remember what I said. Let me know if you think of any areas you’d like me to focus on. If you’re ever uncomfortable, please tell me immediately. If you need me to stop for any reason, just say so.”

Harry’s hands are warm and heavy on his shoulders and Louis sighs as soon as he starts to lightly rub oil over his back. His touch is gentle, smoothing over his skin at first before he increases the pressure and begins to knead Louis’ muscles. 

Despite lying face down, Louis keeps his eyes open, staring at the bare wood floor beneath the table, because he doesn’t want to fall asleep, which he’s pretty sure would happen. He tries to keep his mind occupied by thinking about what game he wants to play on PS4 tonight, what kind of pizza he wants to order, and what kind of beer he wants to drink. That only takes about three minutes, and then he remembers the rest of his weekend plans and his mind goes straight to Harry.

It’s actually been fairly easy to remain celibate over the year. He’s been working nonstop, and now that Liam and Niall are together, they rarely want to go out, so it’s easier for Louis to stay home too. Plus, he hasn’t come across anyone who sparked his interest. Until now. 

Louis takes a deep breath when Harry starts to massage his lower back. It’s sore, though he didn’t realize it until that moment. Probably from all of the hours he spends in his desk chair. 

“You’re tight here,” Harry says and Louis feels himself start to blush, even though he knows that Harry means his lower back muscles and not his asshole. Though that’s got to be tighter than ever, since he doesn’t even feel comfortable fingering himself anymore. Werewolf claws are no joke. And he doesn’t want to test any super werewolf healing abilities he may or may not have. 

He forces himself to relax, taking measured breaths, and picturing himself floating in a massive bathtub, warm water buoying his body. 

Harry’s hands are probably magic. He works every sore spot on Louis’ back and arms until he feels like the Play-Doh he uses with the kids at school, then pulls the sheet up, covering him to his neck. And starts on his legs. 

Possibly Louis should’ve thought about the fact that his legs have always been sensitive. Calves less so than his thighs, but still. Sensitive. As Harry works his way up the backs of Louis’ legs, he does everything he can to distract himself, but all he can think is that Harry’s hands are touching him where only his previous sexual partners have touched him. And that line of thinking goes straight to his dick. Which begins to harden where it’s trapped between his body and the table, causing Louis to shift his hips before he can stop himself. Harry’s hands still on the back of his left knee.

“Alright?”

“Oh, um… My neck. Can you… It’s sore.” It’s not exactly a lie, but it’s also the part of his body furthest away from his legs, and he _can’t_ get fully aroused. Harry’s poor massage table would be covered in Louis’ own personal brand of lubrication. Through the hole in the table, Louis can see Harry’s feet. They’re bare, toenails painted a bright yellow that makes Louis grin until Harry lays his hands on either side of his neck and begins to massage him there. 

It doesn’t actually hurt him most of the time, but there is a sort spot on his neck, right at the base of his skull, from changing back and forth. At least, he thinks that’s what it’s from because it never bothered him until he became a werewolf and it only seems to act up after he’s changed back to his human form. 

Slowly, Harry works his magic on Louis’ neck and he feels himself drift, almost nodding off, but he keeps himself awake by biting down on his lip as hard as he can. When Harry gets to the spot at the base of Louis’ skull, he groans and immediately apologizes, but Harry just chuckles and says, “It’s fine, Louis. Some people think it’s helpful, actually.”

So when Harry’s thumb presses right in the center of that spot at the top of Louis’ spine, he outright moans, shivers, and changes into a fucking werewolf right there on the massage table. 

Harry jumps backwards, but that’s all Louis notices before he leaps off the table, splinters the wood as he crashes through the door, and sprints down the hallway to dive through the glass of the window at the end. Racing away as fast as his four werewolf legs will carry him, Louis spares just a second to wonder what the hell just happened. 

As a werewolf, he’s just as lucid and intelligent as he is when he’s in his human form, which is unfortunate because that means he replays his uncontrolled change on repeat in his brain. He can change at will, but he didn’t do it on purpose, so he has no clue what’s going on. 

Louis takes off towards the woods, wolf instincts leading the way. Thankfully, the massage place is practically in the middle of nowhere and it’s dark, so it’s unlikely that anyone will spot him. As he approaches the treeline, a howl sounds behind him and he slows, looking back over his shoulder, but sees nothing. Taking cover in the brush, he runs straight ahead for a few seconds, then darts to the left for a while, going right a few minutes later. 

During full moons, he and Liam and Niall like to play hide and seek, and this feels similar. Except he’s alone. Another mysterious howl comes from directly ahead just as he pushes through thick hanging vines into a clearing. He tries to swerve when he sees another werewolf prowling the perimeter, but his paws slide in the damp grass and he tumbles, rolling out of control and stopping at the other werewolf’s feet. 

This unknown werewolf is male, slightly larger than Louis, with darker fur, and Louis can sense that he’s much more experienced in this form that Louis is. Knowing that even if he could run, he’d never get away, Louis cowers before him.

“Louis?” 

Louis looks up from where he lays prostrate on the grass, positive that his werewolf ears are deceiving him. 

“Hi,” Harry says, lifting one hand to wiggle his fingers in greeting. “Can we, um… talk? Wolf or human, either way, I’m good.”

At first, Louis can’t answer, too stunned to do anything other than lie on the ground and stare at Harry’s naked body while he runs through the last few minutes of his life and tries to wake himself up. When even nipping at his own front leg doesn’t work, Louis changes back to his human form and, forgetting that they're both naked in the woods, shouts, “You’re a werewolf?”

Harry nods.

“How?” Louis has always been an animated talker and he wildly swings his arms, turning side to side as if someone’s going to leap out and explain things.

“Um… There’s this witch, like, a few miles west of here. She—”

“Did you break her Alder tree branches too?”

“What? No. I… She was a client. Weekly massages, which was great ’cause, you know, repeat business and tips and stuff, but I guess she thought I was into her? And like, leading her on? She asked me out and I said no and I thought everything was fine, but then the full moon came and I, well…” Harry shrugs and bites his lower lip and Louis has to laugh. It’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard and Harry must agree because he joins in, letting loose a big honking goose laugh that makes Louis snort. 

When he finally pulls himself together, he notices that they’re both standing there completely naked in the middle of a clearing in the woods, and covers what he can with his hands. “Sorry about, um… breaking everything.”

“It’s fine. You can help fix it.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure. I can do that.” Louis has no idea how, but he can help if it means spending more time with a hot, (hopefully) gay werewolf.

“Right, um… So…”

“Yeah. So…” Louis has to ask. “You single?”

“Yeah.” Harry scrunches his nose and purses his lips.

“Any chance you’re into male werewolves?”

Harry smiles and nods.

“Want to maybe…” Louis shifts his weight from foot to foot. “Run around together during the next full moon?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Harry nods and blatantly checks Louis out, looking him up and down. “Are you… um… Do you… Would you…”

Louis tilts his head to the side and raises his eyebrows.

“Can you…” Harry huffs impatiently. “I’ve been a werewolf for two years and you’re the only other one I’ve met and you’re hot and like, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s not easy to like, meet people this way?”

“Oh.” Louis nods and glances down to see that Harry’s half-hard, apparently from just looking at him, and he preens, but then he realizes what Harry’s trying and failing to say. “Oh! You… You want—” He steps closer to Harry, words rushing out of him. “Yes. Anything. Please. It’s been a year and I—”

Harry cuts him off with a kiss, slamming into him and sending him staggering backwards. He trips and lands on the ground with Harry on top of him, panting. “God, you have no idea— Or I guess you do.”

Surging up, Louis captures Harry’s lips with his own, reaching up to thread his fingers through Harry’s curls and pull him closer. In no time, they’re both hard and rutting against each other, and while he was hoping to get fucked, Louis is on board with coming any way he can, if Harry’s involved. 

Maybe Harry can read his mind, maybe it’s a more experienced werewolf thing, or maybe Harry wants it just as badly as Louis does because he separates their mouths and says, “Can I fuck you?”

Louis nods so fast he knocks their heads together, but it doesn’t stop him from throwing Harry off of him and rolling over onto his stomach in the grass with his legs spread. He lifts his hips in invitation and Harry’s warm hands land heavily on the backs of his thighs, massaging the muscles. It’s Louis’ weakness and now that he knows it’s wanted, he lets himself have it, relaxing into the touch, allowing the heat to build inside of him until he’s about to demand that Harry fuck him immediately. 

But as soon as he thinks it, Harry stops his massage and Louis feels his fingers trace over his spine, all the way down, to slip between his cheeks and rub over his rim. Wasting no time, Harry pushes one finger inside, and then two.

“So much slick. Perfect.” Harry scissors his fingers and pumps them in and out, adding a third and twisting his wrist, pulling a moan from Louis’ throat.

“Now. Fuck me now, Harry.” Louis reaches back and swats at Harry’s arm. 

“Impatient.” Harry pulls his fingers free and Louis watches him coat his cock in Louis’ slick and he’s up on his hands and knees in a split second, wiggling his hips until Harry grips them tightly and holds him still. Louis arches his back and with the first press of Harry’s cock against his rim, he shivers and whines.

Surprisingly, the stretch isn’t painful at all, but maybe that’s part of being a werewolf. Like the fur and the claws and the knot— “Fuck.” The slightly rounded base of Harry’s cock slips inside Louis easily and he rocks against it. 

“Louis? I didn’t think about—”

“Do it. Fuck me and don’t you dare pull out to come.”

Neither of them move or speak for a second and Louis worries he’s crossed a line, but then Harry tightens his hold on Louis’ waist and snaps his hips, nudging Louis’ prostate, and making his fur appear. Louis stills, but Harry groans and fucks him harder, thrusting in and out and angling his hips to hit Louis’ prostate every time he gains enough control to make himself a furless human again. 

The forest is silent except for the wet sound Louis’ slick makes as Harry dicks in hard and fast, and the slap of their bodies coming together. Harry grinds his growing knot against the outside of Louis’ rim, making him whimper needily and shove his hips back. Harry stops moving and lets him take what he wants.

“Can’t believe you want my knot in you.” Harry pulls Louis’ cheeks apart with his thumbs and slowly begins to thrust again, matching Louis’ rhythm, but mostly letting Louis fuck himself on his swelling knot. 

It grows and stretches Louis’ rim, drawing desperate moan after moan from him every time it pops in and out. It’s bigger than he’s ever had, obviously, and it feels amazing, filling him better than he thought possible, as he rocks his hips back once more, forcing the fat knot inside. Harry’s hips stutter and he circles them, grinding into Louis, and when his knot presses against Louis’ prostate, that’s all it takes. Louis sobs as he starts to come untouched as he feels Harry pulsing inside him, and they both collapse the ground, Harry covering Louis’ body with his own. 

Louis grunts, shifting his hips, and Harry hooks an arm under him, maneuvering them onto their sides. As soon as he can, Louis gets a hand around himself to work his own knot, trembling as each pulse of come sends another, less intense orgasm through him, tightening his muscles around Harry’s cock, milking the come from his knot. 

“Did we just come at the same time?” Louis asks, shivering when Harry knocks his hand away and wraps his own around Louis’ cock.

Harry nods and presses a kiss to the back of Louis’ neck, right on the tender spot at the base of his skull, and Louis freezes, blurting out, “Did you—”

“I can explain!”

Louis wiggles, but Harry’s knot is too big for him to pull out. He grabs Harry’s wrist and removes his hand from his cock. “Explain then.”

“I knew you were a werewolf. It’s an extra vertebrae. I have it too. After I was turned, I kept having this weird ache right there and, I mean… I’m a massage therapist. I know how many vertebrae I’m supposed to have. I wasn’t sure what it was at first. Thought maybe it was a muscle spasm or something. Pressed on it and boom. Instant Werewolf. So, I… I hoped… If I’d been wrong, it wouldn’t have done anything.”

Wiggling again, but backwards this time, Louis reaches behind him for Harry’s arm. He sighs and laces their fingers together, holding their hands in front of his heart. “I’m not mad. I thought Liam and Niall set this up, but…”

“No.” Harry shakes his head and his lips drag across the back of Louis’ neck. “Coincidence. Zayn’s the only one who knows what I am. You saw him. The gorgeous guy behind the reception desk.”

Louis yawns. Being a werewolf is kind of exhausting anyway, but with the sex on top of running however far into the woods, he’s ready for his bed. “What’s next?”

“Oh, um… Can I take you to dinner? Since, you know, I’ve got my dick in you. I mean, I’d like at least one date before you get rid of me.”

Louis giggles and tries to elbow Harry, but can’t with their hands clasped tightly together. “I meant what do we do since we’re naked in the middle of the woods? But I guess we can go back as werewolves. My clothes are still in that locker room.”

“Yeah, we can do that.” Harry yawns and nuzzles against Louis’ shoulder blade. “Have to do something about the broken window. Then, maybe you could come over to my place?”

Louis nods. There’s nothing he’d like more.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it!


End file.
